


In the Stillness, Love Rises

by whitewoofgeralt



Series: Endgame Fix-It Scenes [1]
Category: Avengers: Endgame - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame, Endgame fix it, M/M, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 06:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitewoofgeralt/pseuds/whitewoofgeralt
Summary: Avengers: Endgame spoilers“You okay, Buck?”Bucky lifted his head to offer Steve a small smile. “As okay as I’m ever going to be.” He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to drag you away. I just….”“Too much?” Steve asked, knocking their knees together as he joined Bucky.“Something like that. What about you? How are you doing?”Steve rubbed at the back of his neck with a sigh. “If I’m being honest, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s too….quiet.”





	In the Stillness, Love Rises

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd so I apologize in advance for any mistakes that you find. This is my attempt at a fix it type story and I rewrote it three times before I was somewhat happy with it. So, I hope you enjoy it. I'm a bit rusty.

 

There were holes in Bucky’s mind. Empty spaces where he knew memories should be. Empty spaces where he knew that Steve should be. Memories of too hot summers back in Brooklyn when they were nothing more than boys. Memories of Dugan losing one too many hands at poker, putting a serious dent in his ration of cigarettes. Bucky winning them all and sharing them when the nights grew long and cold, and there was nothing but the dirt at their backs and the sound of gunfire in the distance. Steve barrling head first into whatever fight was in front of him. Bucky always having his six, the smell of gunpowder on his hands potent enough that some days he swore he could still smell it. 

There were too many memories to catalogue. But there were just as many that never made their way back. Bucky told himself that it was fine, that maybe some things were better left forgotten. He knew it was bullshit though, especially when he was left with more bad ones than good. Or at least it felt that way, sometimes.

Killing Tony’s parents. Assassinating presidents. Almost killing Steve. Yet despite all of it, there was one memory that haunted him more than the others, one that he saw every goddamn time he closed his eyes. Or maybe there was two. It was hard to tell sometimes.

Steve’s face when he fell the first time. The way he clung to the side of the tain, unable to look away. And then when he turned to dust. While it had all happened so fast, Steve had been the last thing - the last person - in his line of sight. He saw the devastation, the loss. Felt the weighted heaviness of that moment, that second, in his gut - in his  _ heart _ \- until the nothingness took over. 

After the snap, after the dust, there was nothing. No pain, no memories, just a big ol’ fat case of nothing and to Bucky, it was a welcomed reprieve from the hard life he had lived. Or it had been, because the next thing he was aware of, was the Wakandan ground back underneath his feet and the familiar weight of a gun in his hand.

And then they were fighting again. 

Somehow they were back, and despite the wreckage around them and the bodies that continued to pile up, it looked as though that maybe, just maybe, luck was on their side for once. 

It was. 

They won, and while it had come with great cost, the world around them stilled and quieted. Battered and bloody, soldiers let themselves fall to their knees.

Among them, Bucky had done the same and wondered just how many second chances this life was going to give him before he saw the end. 

 

***

 

The stillness lingered in the days after the battle, a welcomed comfort in the grief that followed. Goodbyes were never easy, but in the face of everything that had been sacrificed to get them to where they were now, it was almost bittersweet.

The funny thing about grief, Bucky had learned, was that it came in waves. You could be coasting, happy and then suddenly the waves grew and grew until they were crashing down around you, unbidden. Unwanted. Somedays, you felt as though you were drowning in it. But like all things, the waves would settle and the water would dry up, and in the aftermath you were left with the reminder that though they were gone, they were not forgotten. 

Bucky watched as Pepper made her way down towards the lake, Morgan clutching at the hem of her dress and felt his chest tighten with the ache of their loss. 

Too young, he thought. Too young to lose a husband, a father, a friend. 

Bucky shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and watched as Tony’s loved ones said their goodbyes. And not for the first time, he wished that he could have taken Tony’s place. If anyone had deserved more than his share of second chances, it had been Tony.

When Morgan pressed her face into Pepper’s side, Bucky heard her sobs. Heard the hitch in Pepper’s breathing. 

He turned away. He shouldn’t be here. 

“I gotta go,” he murmured as he leaned in towards Sam. 

He felt Sam’s eyes on him as he made his way towards the property’s edge. Now wasn’t the time to make this about him, he knew that. So why was it that all he could remember was the way Tony’s mother’s neck felt underneath his hands? 

When he was out of sight, he lowered himself down onto the grass and looked out at the water; found himself longing for the nothingness that had followed after that first snap.

He knew it was weak of him, selfish even; just as he knew that he should be thankful to be alive. Thankful that he had people who cared enough to bring him back. But sometimes the stuff inside of his head was so loud that his eyeballs fucking ached with it. 

He pulled up his knees, dropped his forehead down onto them and focused on his breathing. Would there ever be a time where it didn’t feel as though he were suffocating in all the shit he had done? 

“You okay, Buck?” 

Bucky lifted his head to offer Steve a small smile. “As okay as I’m ever going to be.” He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to drag you away. I just….”

“Too much?” Steve asked, knocking their knees together as he joined Bucky. 

“Something like that. What about you? How are you doing?” 

Steve rubbed at the back of his neck with a sigh. “If I’m being honest, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s too….quiet.” 

“I wonder if it felt like this after the war,” Bucky wondered. In front of him, a loon danced across the water. “I think I would have liked to have been there.” 

“Future’s not what you thought it would be?” 

Bucky shook his head as he meet Steve’s gaze. “I’m not who I thought I would be.” 

“When I agreed to Erskine’s trail, I was naive enough to believe that I knew what I was getting myself into. I just wanted to serve my country. I never thought I’d end up here. So I understand not being the person who you thought you would be.” 

He shifted so that he was facing Bucky, grabbed his hand and held on tight. “We’ve both done some fucked up shit, Bucky. I can’t begin to imagine what’s going on inside your head, but I know you. I’ve known you my entire life. You’re a good person, Bucky. Actually, you’re amazing. And I really hope that one day, you’ll see that again.” 

Bucky wanted to laugh it off, to tell Steve that he was full of shit. But Steve’s eyes were earnest, willing Bucky to believe every goddamn word. He didn’t deserve this. God, he didn’t deserve Steve. 

Steve who had always been too good for him. Steve who never once backed down from a fight just because of his size. Steve who never let his illnesses bring him down. Steve who made Bucky laugh, smile and feel as though he were the luckiest guy just to be around him. 

He didn’t know what to say. There were no words. So he squeezed Steve’s hand a little tighter. 

“Bucky,” Steve said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “I have to bring the stones back tomorrow.” 

“I know, pal. Are you nervous?” 

“Once I return them, I can go back, Bucky. I can make sure that you don’t fall off that train.” 

Bucky stared at Steve, stunned; his brain unable to process the words that were coming out of Steve’s mouth. “What?” 

“I can make sure that you don’t fall off that train,” Steve repeated, this time with more urgency. Like he needed Bucky to understand. “You can live your life out the way you were supposed to. No Hydra. No mind control.” 

“Steve…” 

“Bucky, I’m serious. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it.” He let go of Bucky’s hands, cupped his face instead. Let his thumbs play over Bucky’s cheekbones. 

“Whatever you want me to do, Bucky. I… I want you to be happy. Whatever it takes.” 

“What about you?”

Steve frowned. “What about me?” 

“What’s it going to take to make you happy, huh?” Bucky asked as he wrapped his hands around Steve’s wrists. “You don’t have to fix me, Steve.” 

“That’s not… that’s not what I’m trying to do.” 

Bucky raised a brow. “Isn’t it, pal?” 

Steve let his hands fall away before he pushed himself to his feet. “Tell me what you want me to do, Bucky?” 

Bucky didn’t know. Outside of wanting to feel nothing at all, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. And if he was being honest, the uncertainty of it all scared the hell out of him. If he didn’t fall from the train, then what? He’d ship home after the war, find himself a nice girl to settle down with. Have some kids. Was that really the kind of life he wanted? 

If Steve went back and made sure he didn’t fall, what the hell did that mean for them  _ now _ ? He knew what it would mean for him  _ then _ . He’d have to live his life without Steve.

He wouldn’t know that they would find Steve years later, frozen in ice. He wouldn’t know that they would later unthaw him and use him to fight their wars. Again.

“Bucky, what do you want me to do?” 

_ Nothing _ , he wanted to shout. _ I want you to do nothing _ . He opened his mouth to say just that, but the words dried up on his tongue, died. He got to his feet, shoved himself into Steve’s space as he grabbed a fist full of his hair. 

He let his eyes travel over Steve’s face, took in the already fading bruises and the pain that seemed to radiate off of him. And then he didn’t think about it anymore. Didn’t give himself time to second guess himself before he crushed his mouth to Steve’s. 

This was what he wanted. What he needed. How goddamn selfish of him to want this bad.

There was no finesse, no skill. Just the clash of teeth and lips and tongue. Bucky threw himself into it, tried to convey everything that he was feeling and more into the kiss. He wanted Steve to know that his idea was fucking stupid, that a life without Steve wasn’t an option in whatever time. That he would take what he endured for a thousand more years if it meant he could have Steve in whatever life, in whatever way Steve wanted him. 

He felt Steve’s hands on his shoulders, felt the way his fingers dug into the fabric - 

And then Steve was pushing him back, away and Bucky felt the world crumble down around him. Wreckless, he thought. Stupid. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted, hands falling out of Steve’s hair. 

He didn’t give Steve time to reply, instead he stepped back and walked away. 

***

 

Frustration rippled through him, had him balling his hands into fists; just narrowly missing the urge to put his fist through a goddamn tree. It had been stupid of him, careless and unfair of him to put Steve in that situation. Stupid to have even clung to the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could have done this damn thing. 

His feelings were his own damn problem. Now he went and made them Steve’s. Bucky had gone his whole life with his feelings for Steve locked up tight in a box; shoved so far back that some days were easier to pretend that they didn’t exist at all. 

Until today. 

Until Bucky had been too weak to even realize what he was doing. One minute Steve had been talking about trains and falling and how he could go back, change it so that it didn’t happen at all, and Bucky slipped. He let everything bubble to the surface and then before he could stop himself, he was kissing Steve as though his goddamn life depended on it. 

But now it was out there. Steve knew how he felt. Sure, he may not have felt the same but at least he knew now. Maybe one day, he could find some kind of comfort in that knowledge. Something other than the heartache that threatened to choke him. 

Steve had always been too good for him. This only cemented that. 

He thought about going back to his tent, trying to catch a couple hours sleep before… well,  _ whatever _ . There was no looming enemy on the horizon. Nowhere that they needed to be. Nowhere the Avengers needed to be, he reminded himself. He was not an Avenger. He was a weapon, an unpredictable one at that. They didn’t need him. 

Steve didn’t need him either. 

He huffed out a self deprecating laugh as he changed directions  and headed away from the makeshift campsite that had been set up. 

He could leave, now. Disappear and never come back. Not that that had worked before. Steve had made a goddamn mess looking for him. It didn’t matter that they weren’t on the same page when it came to Bucky kind of being in love with that big lug, Steve would still coming looking for him. Whether or not it would be out of guilt was up for debate. 

Guilt for never going back for Bucky’s body during the war. Guilt for not realizing sooner that Bucky was alive and in Hydra’s grips. Guilt for being unable to return Bucky’s feelings. 

It all sucked. 

He didn’t want Steve to have to carry the weight of Bucky’s trauma, for whatever reason. 

Bucky wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, content to let his feet do all of the work. He needed to move, clear his head. When he found himself stepping back onto the ruined ground that the battle had taken place on, it seemed oddly fitting. 

Ruined, just like him. Or maybe not. This space had the chance to be reborn, rebuilt. Bucky did not. 

He moved forward, lowered himself down onto an overturned rock. Around him, people mulled about in hard hats and planners. He felt bad for being in their way, but he quickly tampered it down. Let it fade away. He focused on his breathing, on the  _ now _ . 

Bucky had always counted on Steve being apart of his life, and maybe he still would be. Bucky was selfish enough to take Steve however he could get him, even if that meant he had to be miserable for a little while. 

Or the rest of his goddamn life. If he hadn’t been able to rid himself of loving Steve by now, he knew it was no use to hope for it now. 

He dropped his head into his hands as he pulled at his hair to relieve some pressure from the headache that had begun to build up behind his eyes. 

He almost didn’t hear Steve come up in front of him.  _ Almost _ . 

“What the hell was that?” Steve demanded, angry. 

Good, Bucky thought. He could deal with Steve’s anger. He dropped his hands as he lifted his head, eyes meeting Steve’s.  

Steve was flushed with anger, mouth tight and his hands held out at his sides in a  _ what the fuck, Barnes  _ gesture. Bucky bristled a little because where did this guy get off? He was the one who pushed Bucky away. He was the one who broke Bucky’s heart. 

He swallowed, reigned back some of his own anger. 

“You can’t just kiss me and walk away like that,” Steve said,  obviously not waiting for Bucky to respond. “You.. you…” 

“What does it even matter, Steve?” Bucky asked. He pushed himself to his feet and was about to take a step towards Steve before he stopped himself. He sighed, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead. “You pushed me away. It’s fine, pal. Seriously.” 

Steve was looking at Bucky as though he had grown two heads. “It’s fine?” 

Bucky shrugged. “I mean, it kind of sucks. But I’ll get over it, okay? Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.” 

“Is that what you want?” 

Steve’s question was quiet, the anger having fizzled out. This wasn’t going how Bucky had thought it would. Though to be honest, he had kind of hoped that they could have skipped this whole conversation. He hated talking about his feelings. Hated talking in general sometimes. 

“I can’t have what I want, Steve. So…” 

This time Steve took a step forward and he didn’t stop until he was standing in front of Bucky, the toes of his boots touching Bucky’s. 

“You asked me earlier what it was going to take to make me happy,” Steve said, eyes searching Bucky’s. “Until now, I didn’t think I could get it and I sure as shit didn’t know how to ask for it.” 

He reached up, ran his hands up Bucky’s arms before settling them on his shoulders. “Asking you to love me, it would have been selfish.” 

Bucky felt Steve’s words like a punch to the gut; would have doubled over if it weren’t for Steve’s hands on him. He reached up, gripped Steve’s wrists. He wanted so desperately to believe what Steve was saying. Wanted to cling to them. 

“Steve…” he whispered, emotion thick in his voice. 

“You’ve always made me happy, Bucky,” Steve said, knowing exactly what Bucky was gearing up to say. “This isn’t me giving you something just because I feel like I owe it to you. This isn’t guilt. I love you, Bucky, and I am pretty sure that I always have. I’m just sorry that it took so long.” 

Bucky said nothing, because what could he say right now? Guys like him didn’t get happy endings, and yet his was standing right in front of him, telling Bucky that he loved him. 

He surged forward, captured Steve’s mouth with his own and let himself sink into the feelings of home. Because that was what Steve was, home. In every sense of the word. 

Steve’s hands slid up to frame his face as he took the kiss deeper. 

Bucky felt rather than heard the hitch in his breath. Steve wanted this. Wanted him. It made him a little dizzy, made him undeniably happy. Bucky placed his hands on Steve’s hips, drew him in closer. 

When they finally parted, breathless, Bucky pressed his forehead to Steve’s. 

“When you go back tomorrow,” Bucky said, voice pitched low but sure. “You put those stones were they belong and come back to me, you hear me, pal? No more talk of trains.” 

Steve let out a small, low laugh. “No more talk of trains.” 

 

***

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bucky asked, brows furrowed together as Steve picked up the shield. “I’m not asking you to do this, pal.”  

Holding the shield out in front of him, Steve smiled at Bucky. “It’s time I get that life everyone’s been telling me to get, Buck.” 

“So, who are you going to give it to?” Bucky asked, nodding at the shield. 

“I have someone in mind.” 

***

 

In the end, Steve gave Sam the shield. 

“So, this is you retiring?” Sam asked. 

Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist, pulled him in close. “I’ve waited a long time, Sam. And for the first time since I woke up from the ice, something finally feels right.” 

 

_ The End _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr: buckysawsteve.tumblr.com


End file.
